


come give me some.

by justaboat



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 17:38:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4068709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justaboat/pseuds/justaboat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>harry teaches liam a little about phone sex. (girl harry and liam)</p>
            </blockquote>





	come give me some.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spacesbetweenseconds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacesbetweenseconds/gifts).



> helllllllo, friends. this is for the girl direction exchange and i hope you all like it! especially you, molly! you had such great prompts picking between them was for sure a challenge, but i really hope you enjoy this babe!

_What are you wearing? ;) ;) ;) x_

Liam’s phone buzzes in the middle of a Law and Order episode, loud and insistent. She glances over, unlocking it and staring at the text Harry’s just sent her. It’s a stark difference from the picture she’d just seen moments prior, when scrolling through her Instagram.

Harry Styles partying with the likes of Kendall Jenner and Taylor Swift amid rumours that she and her bandmate, Liam Payne, have sparked a romance! was the headline she’d imagined in her mind, seeing a picture of a very giggly group of three girls posing for a selfie.

Not that Liam hates Kendall or Taylor, because she doesn’t. Truthfully she’s only met Taylor once, and being a big fan and all, that hadn’t been anything out of the ordinary. 

It’s just the principle of the thing, really. Because Harry fucked off to LA on their break; she should be here, with Liam. Where she’s got a bowl of crisps beside her, wearing a big, itchy jumper and track pants. The picture of perfection, Liam thinks to herself sarcastically. 

But, Liam helpfully reminds herself, she’s on break. And everything’s been a bit shit for the past couple of weeks, so she deserves this. 

The press was ruthless, after they found out about her and Harry. When they’d been caught making out at a club, that was one thing. People called it a “drunken hook up between gal pals”, which Harry hadn’t been happy with reading. Not that Liam had either, but Harry was especially pissed off by it.

“Do gal pals have sex in the back of their tour bus?” Harry mumbled that morning at breakfast, angry and taking bites of Liam’s eggs.

“Why don’t you set them straight, then. Release your sex tape I know you’ve been working on,” Louis joked.

Liam shot him a look, and Louis hadn’t said anything else on the matter. Only that he was going to tweet them to piss off later, which neither Harry nor Liam had argued against him doing. 

And, over the course of the next couple of weeks after that, the world had finally caught onto the fact that they might not be the gal pals they’d thought after all. Could be because of all the pictures Harry posted of Liam on her Instagram, including the one where Harry caught Liam completely by surprise when she’d kissed her during one of their shows.

Ah, the life of two female popstars in love. A wild ride, indeed.

Across the room, Loki is pouting for attention and laying on the floor. Liam tosses him a treat, shuffling into the kitchen. Half the time she forgets the world doesn’t really support it when two people of the same gender start dating, which is something she’d never thought she would see the ugly side of.

But it’s there. And it’s very ugly. 

Louis texted a couple of hours earlier, asking if she wanted to come over and join him and Niall for some pizza. Liam still hasn’t texted back, puzzled and unsure of how to respond to Harry. She doesn’t even know what time it is in LA, for Christ’s sake. 

Harry’s probably drunk, Liam imagines. And, frowning at her screen, turns on the kettle for some tea. She rummages in the cupboard and grabs a box of green and pomegranate. Something to soothe the scratchiness that she can feel in the back of her throat.

Instead of texting Harry back, she opens Instagram again. Kendall’s posted a video of Harry now, one where she’s holding a glass of wine and singing along to Kesha very loudly in whatever club they’re in.

Liam tries to ignore the jealousy blooming in her chest. Because it’s not she doesn’t trust Harry, or anything.

She takes a screenshot of Harry’s text, sends it to Louis. _Whattttt does this mean_

It takes a few minutes for Louis to respond, Liam already back in the living room with her episode of Law and Order resumed, _oh my god. im not getting involved in ur sexting life, li._

Liam frowns, _This isn’t sexting_ she sends backs knowingly. Because she’s Liam Payne. She knows everything, after all.

_why the hell else would harry ask what ur wearing unless she’s drunk and horny in some club in la. use ur brain, liam payne._

_Youuuuu suck._

_uuuuuuuu need to get on board with sexting, apparently. ni’s eating ur pizza bye love u_

Sexting. Something Liam’s never really gotten into. She supposes her and Danny used to send texts that could be considered dirty, or whatever. God, Liam cringes at the memory of him. What is she doing?

_Ru having fun?_ Liam sends Harry, locking her phone and ignoring the urge to hurl it out a window.

_Liaaaaaaaaaaaaam_ , Harry unhelpfully sends back. 

Leaning her head back against the couch, Liam watches the typing bubble appear, then disappear. _Harrrrrrrrry_ she responds in kind.

For a brief period of time, Harry had her read messages on, so the world could know how horrible she really is at texting. She’s turned it off now, so Liam has no idea if she’s even read it or not and she tries to pretend that’s something of a comfort.

It’s not.

_What aer you doing?_

God. Harry really is drunk, then, Liam thinks with a stupid smile she can’t hold back. _Watching tellyyyyyy and eating crisps_

She’s half expecting a picture of Kendall, but the response Liam actually gets surprises her. _I’m weaaaaaring those pants you liiiiiiike_

“Shit,” Liam swears, feeling her cheeks heating up for no one to see.

_Omggg_ is the thing she can think to send back, attached with the monkey hiding its face emoji. She’s a disgrace. A full and utter disgrace, honestly, her phone should be taken away with no signs of it being returned in the foreseeable future. 

Harry sends back a handful of emojis, ranging from hearts to someone in a bathtub and what looks to be a crystal ball of some sorts. Liam gives up on getting any sort of coherent response after that, putting her phone screen side down onto the cushion.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she tells Loki sternly. He seems to be judging Liam in front of the window. 

Liam pulls the throw blanket on her couch over herself, drifting off during one of Olivia Benson’s monologues. 

-

_Miss youuuuuu :( x_ Liam gets a few days later, when she’s with Louis.

Harry’s supposed to be on a flight back to London before the next leg of their tour starts back up, but Liam has no intention of asking for her girlfriend’s whereabouts at the moment.

_Comeeee to Londonnnnn_ Liam sends back, hearing Louis snort from across the kitchen.

“How did the rest of that go the other night?” he asks, not looking up from where he’s making sure the cheesy bread isn’t burning. It’s going to burn, but with Louis that’s inevitable. 

Liam looks over at him, confused. “How did what go.”

Louis rolls his eyes, kicking at Liam’s ankles, “Idiot. The whole, sexting thing.”

Liam’s cheeks flush, shaking her head. “Piss off,” she says, shoving Louis’ shoulder lightly.

“Whatever, Liam. You’re so fucking red. Like a tomato, Jesus,” Louis says, pinching one of her cheeks. 

She flicks Louis’ hands away, pointing to the cheesy toast that’s smoking a little from the oven top. It distracts him long enough for Liam to pull herself up to sit on top of the counter, crossing her legs under one another. Her phone buzzes beside her again.

“Well.” Louis stares at Liam, expectant.

“What.” Liam snaps, defensive.

Louis snorts, putting a plate of food beside her. “Are you going to reply to her or not.”

Liam did not make her way over here to get interrogated by Louis on her relationship. “Who says it’s Harry.”

Louis raises his eyebrows, but doesn’t push the subject any further. A few minutes later he gets a call from his mum, excusing himself into the living room — leaving Liam alone on the counter, glaring at her phone. 

It is a text from Harry. Revolutionary, truly. Liam sighs to herself, running a hand through her hair. It’s a tangled, curly mess, not having any sort of motivation to do anything to it once she’d been out of the shower. 

_What are you wearing? ;)_ Harry sent not ten minutes ago.

So, apparently Harry doesn’t have any new material. Liam can relate. _U askd this the other daaaaay_.

“No, mum, we don’t leave until next week. Yeah, yeah I’ll come before then —” Louis’ voice is drifting down the hallway, still on the phone. 

Liam chews her lower lip, considering. 

_I still want to knowwww_ Harry unhelpfully sends back. Liam’s about half ready to toss her phone across the room, but refrains. 

God. Liam is dating an idiot. Or, maybe she’s the idiot that Harry’s dating. One of the two.

Why she’s being so shy about this, she has no idea. Her and Dan never did anything like this, really, not even when she was on tour. But then again as she soon found out, they never did because he was too busy fucking everyone else to spend any amount of time texting Liam about what she was _wearing_.

Liam might, possibly, be projecting onto Harry and their relationship.

_One of Ur tank tops actuallllllly :)_

Probably could’ve done without the smiley face, Liam thinks with a wince. 

“You’re gross.” Is the first thing Louis says when he comes back into the kitchen, tossing his phone onto the counter.

Liam scowls at him. “I’m not gross. I’m trying to flirt, leave me alone.”

“Flirt? You two have been dating for like, two months now. I think you’re past flirting,” Louis points out. 

_Which one?_

“I think I’m sucking at it, though,” Liam says with a frown.

Louis pauses, shrugging. “Don’t think you are. Harry’s mad about you. Quite disgusting, really.”

Liam gives him a small smile. _Would U rather have a pic????_

_God, Li, yeah._ Harry says. Liam takes in a sharp breath, smiling despite herself. Louis is right. They are disgusting. Absolutely revolting. Her phone buzzes again:

_But you could forgo the top altogether for the picture ;)_

Liam squeaks, nearly dropping her phone to let it shatter onto the ground. “Jesus, _what_. Did Harry tell you she’s got a secret taxidermy obsession, or.”

“What, no,” Liam says quickly, tossing a tissue at Louis. 

“Shall I excuse you to be with your phone, then,” Louis asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I have to, um. Use the bathroom.” Liam excuses herself, pushing off the counter.

“Clean up after yourself!” Louis calls after her, because he's a twat.

Once the door is closed, Liam wonders what the fuck she’s doing. Looks at her phone, unsure, and exhales.

This is fine. She can do this. This is completely _fine_.

It’s weird because it’s Louis’ bathroom. But Liam hopes she doesn’t notice that little detail, taking a picture of her reflection in the large mirror above the sink, and sends it.

She keeps her shirt on. Because, you know. Keeping the mystery alive, all that.

Harry’s reply comes moments later: _Looks good on ya, Li_ and the smirking emoji.

Liam just about giggles into her hand. And, feeling a little more brave, proceeds to remove Harry’s old tank top all together. So, that leaves her in a bra.

Takes another picture, sends it to Harry again. 

_jeSUS_ Harry’s frantic reply comes. _Liam, fuck, can I call you?_

_No, wht why_ Liam replies.

It’s not that Liam’s ashamed, or anything. Just isn’t quite sure what she’s doing, is what it boils down to.

_Wanna get you off so bad. Could eat you out for hours, Li._

Fuck. Liam can feel her entire face heat up, right down to her neck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

“Did you get lost? Or are you still... preoccupied,” Louis calls down the hallway. “I’m starting up Fifa so get ready to lose, Payne.”

_Have 2 go play Fifaaaaa but Ill be back_

_Oh my God_ , Harry sends. _I’m going to die, Payne. Are you trying to kill me?_

She sends a kissing emoji before pocketing her phone, making her way into the living room and ignoring the way her heart flutters at the thought of Harry between her legs.

_You’re a very cruel woman, Liam Payne. Sexy, but cruel._ Harry says, along with a heart.

\- 

After a week, Liam misses Harry. It’s more than the usual ache in her chest. 

Laying in bed with Loki curled up beside her, Liam scrolls aimlessly through twitter. She’s got a text from Niall that she should reply to, but is too caught up with feeling sorry for herself to open it up and say anything to him.

And, despite her better judgement, dials a familiar number. It rings once, twice, almost three times until they pick up — “Hello?”

“Did I wake you?” Liam’s first question. Even though it’s nearly one in the morning where she is.

“No, didn’t wake me,” Harry’s voice comes, gentle and quiet. There’s no noise around her, which means she’s probably at her home.

That settles something in Liam, knowing she isn’t out. Can imagine she’s wearing one of her big jumpers and a pair of her usual black leggings, hair pulled back into a messy bun on top of her head. The kind where wisps of it would frame her face, but Harry would make no effort to tie them all back.

Liam takes in a deep breath. “Everything okay?” Harry finally asks after a moment.

A lump grows in Liam’s throat, “Yeah, yeah.”

She’s a shit liar. If there’s anyone who knows that better than Liam, it’s Harry. She clicks her tongue on the other line, knowingly, “What’s wrong.”

It’s not an accusatory question; it’s gentle and how Harry is whenever Liam’s upset. She waits for Liam to answer, before asking anything else.

“Nothing.” Liam closes her eyes, presses her head back into her pillows. Loki shifts, pressing against Liam’s side so her hand is under his head. When Harry doesn’t say anything, Liam sighs, running a hand through her hair. “I just — miss you. That’s all.”

She imagines LA is hot. There’s the sound of a door sliding shut, then, “Miss you too. Always miss you, Li.”

Now she feels stupid even calling. Like she shouldn’t be this clingy, annoying girlfriend who calls whenever she misses Harry. 

“Sorry for calling,” Liam rushes to say, sitting up slowly. “You’re probably busy, doing stuff.”

Harry hums, “Not busy. What are you up to?”

Liam settles back in, slowly, petting the top of Loki’s head gently. “Just finished watching a film. Was going to sleep soon, maybe.”

Mid-yawn, Harry replies, “Was going to do that soon myself, I think.”

“What, finish a film?” Liam jokes.

Harry snorts, “No, idiot. Sleep.”

“You do that? I had no idea,” Liam says, hearing Harry laugh gently in response.

“Oh fuck off, Payne,” Harry says, with no real heat behind it.

Liam laughs quietly, tugging at the hem of her shirt. A silence passes, and Liam’s unsure if she’s comfortable in it or not. Just wishes Harry were /here/, so she didn’t have to sit here with a phone pressed to her cheek.

“I’ll see you next week, then? For the start of tour.” Liam breaks the silence finally, licking her lips.

Next to her, Loki shifts in his sleep but doesn’t wake. Liam scratches behind his ear, feeling the warmth under the pads of her fingers. 

“Should probably be there for the start of our tour. Since I’m, you know. In the band, and all,” Harry jokes.

Liam rolls her eyes, unseen to Harry, “Probably a good idea.”

She wants to say it again, tell Harry that she misses her so fucking much. But doesn’t, if only because she doesn’t want to come across as needy, which is the last thing Liam wants to be right now.

“Should probably let you sleep,” Harry says, hesitant.

It’s a little after two in the morning. “I’ll text you tomorrow,” Liam promises.

“I should hope so. You going to Instagram one of those selfies you like? Pouting in your bed half naked?” Liam can see the ridiculous eyebrow wiggle Harry’s giving when she says it.

“Is this you asking? Because I could be persuaded.” Liam smacks her lips together.

“This is me asking, yes,” Harry clarifies, but Liam can hear the smile in her voice.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Night, Li,” Harry says, voice soft.

“Night, Harry,” Liam says back before hanging up.

And despite her better judgement, posts a selfie on Instagram before falling asleep. _fakeliampayne: Dreaming of you, Always you_ with the sleeping emoji.

Harry likes it, commenting the heart eyes emoji. Liam locks her phone, pulling her sheets over body and smiling the biggest she has in what feels like months.

\- 

When Liam gets home after shopping two days later, her front door is open.

Immediately, she takes out her phone, dialing a number. There isn’t a car in front of the gate, or any broken windows or glass. “Hello?”

“Louis? I think someone broke into my house,” Liam blurts out, cowering beside her door.

A pause. Then, “Why aren’t you calling the _police_.”

“I don’t know, fuck, Louis will you just get your arse over here?” Liam just about pleads, gripping her phone.

“Did you leave the door open when you left,” Louis asks.

“No, I locked it. Like a normal, sensible person,” Liam snaps.

“Don’t yell at me when you’ve got someone breaking into your house. Call the fucking police, Payne.”

“Niall would’ve come to help me.”

“Niall would’ve told you to call the police.” Louis replies.

Knowing this is a horrible idea, Liam takes a step inside. Nothing looks out of place, or stolen, from what she can see. As she starts toward the kitchen, however, there’s a small crash. Liam lets out a small shriek, looking to see someone familiar in front of her.

“What the _fuck_ —” Liam breathes out, chest heaving and blinking.

It’s Harry, in her fucking kitchen. She looks just about as terrified as Liam feels, holding up a frying pan and attempting to look as menacing as she can, apparently, which isn’t all that menacing at all.

“You scared the shit out of me, Liam!” Harry practically screeches.

“What, because I thought _you_ were someone breaking into my house?” Liam replies, hands shaking. “Shit, Harry, you scared the fuck out of me!”

“Why did you think I had broken into your house?” Harry asks, apparently not caring that she’d just about scared her girlfriend to near death. That comes later.

“You left my front door open, you idiot,” Liam says.

“Did I? Shit, sorry, I was — you know. Trying to surprise you, with lunch,” Harry says, motioning to the storm behind her on Liam’s counter.

“Your surprise was achieved,” Liam tells her flatly. It still feels like her heart is going to beat its way out of her fucking chest, Christ.

Her phone buzzes. “Hi, Louis,” Liam answers.

“God. _That_ can’t be good,” Harry mumbles, putting the frying pan down.

“Are you alright? What the fuck, Li,” Louis says, sounding frantic.

“It was Harry.”

“What.”

“Harry, in my kitchen. She left the door open, and was trying to surprise me.”

“Surprise you into having a fucking heart attack?” Louis says. “Welcome home, Styles. You giant wanker.”

“Louis says he misses you,” Liam translates when Harry gives her a questioning look.

“Don’t put words in my mouth. Glad you’re alive and well. I’ll text Niall so he doesn’t end up calling the cops, or anything.”

“Thanks, Louis. Bye,” Liam says.

“Alright, so. Probably a bit better planning on my part would’ve been better,” Harry says, now facing Liam where she’s leaning against the counter.

“I mean, probably,” Liam says, feeling the corner of her lips lift into a smile.

Harry’s wearing a white tank top and jean cut off shorts, a Green Bay Packers beanie on her curls. She looks the exact same as when Liam last saw her, which feels like a lifetime ago.

“Where’s my welcome home, then?” Harry asks, outstretching her arms.

Without any sort of hesitation, Liam steps into them. Harry smells like batter and a bit of perfume, arms wrapping around Liam’s waist and pulling her in instantly.

“Missed you,” Liam says against Harry’s neck.

“Missed you too.”

They stay there for a little while, Harry’s thumb pressing into Liam’s elbow gently, as if anchoring them there. And Liam’s not sure she wants to step away, for some sort of irrational fear that Harry isn’t actually here, and this is some sort of sick dream her mind is playing on her.

“You came all this way to make me waffles?” Liam asks when they pull back, just a bit, Harry’s lips pressed against her forehead.

“Something like that,” Harry says, shrugging. 

To her credit, Harry is a really good cook. Liam watches beside her, occasionally taking a piece of strawberry now and again.

“Got bored with LA?” Liam asks a little while later, sitting on the counter because there was no use trying to help Harry, really.

“Not much to do there,” Harry says, and Liam can so easily see the smile she’s holding back. “Thought I’d come here and see if London’s still the same.”

“And?” Liam asks, being handed a plate. She cuts off a piece of waffle, taking a bite.

Harry brackets herself between Liam’s legs, taking a bite off of Liam’s plate. “Still seems the same to me.”

Liam hums, strawberry juice staining the pads of her fingers as she dips a slice into some syrup still on her plate. “Nothing’s really changed.”

Harry makes a face. “Not in a bad way,” Liam amends, pressing her thumb lightly against the bow of Harry’s lips.

“I have an idea…” Harry trails off. Liam raises her eyebrows, signifying Harry’s got her full attention now as she continues, “We could, you know. Continue this conversation elsewhere, if you’d like.”

“Are you seducing me,” Liam asks, laughing quietly when Harry rolls her eyes.

“I’m _trying_ to,” Harry says, giving Liam a pointed look.

“So you want this conversation to happen with our clothes off?” Liam asks, pushing herself off the counter. They can deal with that mess later, she reasons with herself, feeling one of Harry’s arms around her waist.

“I mean. I’m not going to say no to that,” Harry says, very clearly biting back a grin. The only way Liam can tell is the way her dimples press into her cheek.

When Harry finally kisses her, they’re in the doorway to Liam’s bedroom. Harry tastes like syrup and strawberries, and Liam smiles against the contact. 

“Don’t know why you’re wearing that thing when it’s so hot out,” Liam says after a moment, letting Harry guide her toward her bed.

“Because it makes a statement, Liam,” Harry says, as if this should’ve been rather obvious.

Liam snorts, feeling Harry’s lips trail down her neck. “Right. A statement. I should’ve known.”

Harry nips at the skin on her neck, before smoothing her tongue over it gently a few moments later. Her hand is warm on Liam’s hip, thumb grazing against what little skin is being revealed there. Liam’s head feels in a daze, like no time has passed since she last saw Harry.

Harry makes easy work of getting Liam’s shirt off, her own next. Liam’s breathing heavily under Harry’s gaze, skin flushed and thighs clenching together as Harry’s eyes roam her body. 

She kisses along Liam’s collarbone, working off her bra next. It doesn’t take long to get it off, unhooked and on Liam’s floor in a matter of a few seconds. Liam does her very best to keep her composure, head back and biting her lower lip as Harry starts to suck on one of her nipples. 

When she starts work on the next one Liam’s sure she’s completely wet through her knickers, eyes closed and hands in Harry’s hair. 

By the time Harry reaches Liam’s hips, she slowly starts taking off Liam’s shorts. Her own were off not even three steps into Liam’s room, a trail of clothes now left in their wake.

“Jesus, Li,” Harry breathes out.

“What?” Liam asks.

“You’re so fucking _wet_ , Christ,” Harry says, mostly in awe.

Liam doesn’t open her eyes, exhaling shakily, “Are you going to do something about it, then?”

Harry kisses her a moment later, sliding one of her fingers between Liam’s legs. It goes in without a problem, considering how fucking wet she is.

She works up a rhythm carefully, the want inside of Liam twisting hot and real as she lets out a moan in response. Harry kisses her again, thumb circling Liam’s clit in the way she knows Liam likes, gets a rise out of her.

“Going to put my mouth on you, yeah?” Harry says, squeezing Liam’s hand once.

“Don’t tease,” Liam manages to get out.

She’s so close Liam isn’t sure how long she’s going to last when Harry finally puts her mouth on her. It’s hot, wet heat that has Liam letting out another sound, trying to keep herself steady — not grind against Harry’s face.

Harry’s ability with her tongue is something to be praised, is what Liam firmly believes, and that clearly hasn’t changed. She starts sucking on Liam’s throbbing clit again, sending a wave of pleasure through Liam as she steadies herself by gripping the sheets.

“Close —” Liam warns, barely getting the word out as Harry doesn’t seem to notice right away, too preoccupied with her head between Liam’s legs.

Not that Liam’s complaining.

By the time Liam comes a few moments later, Harry presses a kiss to Liam’s lips and she can taste herself on them, Harry’s lips an even darker shade of red than they usually are.

Once Liam’s come down Harry’s next, Liam fingering her until she’s got Harry almost pleading for Liam to put her mouth on her, which she doesn’t need to be asked more than once.

“Admit it,” Harry says, when they’re both drifting off to sleep.

“Admit what,” Liam asks, feeling Harry nosing along her jawline.

“You missed me,” Harry says knowingly.

Liam smiles, a little, tracing a hand along Harry’s arm. “Didn’t think that was a secret,” she tells Harry quietly, just before her eyes close.

-

Tour goes the same. Not that it’s a bad thing, having Harry around all the time. In fact, Liam’s found herself rather fond of having Harry basically an arm length away at any given moment.

Niall and Louis aren’t particularly fond of it, possibly because Harry and Liam have taken to having a fair bit of … alone time, as Niall’s come to call it.

“You can just say it for what it is, Horan,” Harry told him the other day while they’d been eating dinner before their show in Baltimore.

Louis smirked, not saying a word. Niall rolled his eyes, not so subtly kicking Harry under the table, “I’m trying to be respectful.”

“We appreciate it, Ni,” Liam said, ruffling a bit of Niall’s hair.

“Has Harry gotten you into her juicing cleanse, then,” Louis asked a moment later.

“Fuck off,” Harry spat, tossing a napkin to him. 

“No, she hasn’t,” Liam said.

Louis grinned, as if this was some sort of victory. 

“It’s good for you, you know,” Harry told Louis seriously, pointing her finger at him.

“It also sounds absolutely terrible,” Louis said, shrugging.

Niall’s cackles followed them on stage. 

It’s good to be back.

—

“I don’t see why you have to go.”

Liam looks up from her open suitcase, to where Harry is currently sprawled out across her bed. “To my cousin’s wedding? Of course not.”

Harry sighs, dramatically, an arm draped across her face. “You’ll be gone for five days. That’s far too long, in my professional opinion.”

“Four, technically,” Liam corrects, laughing at the look Harry gives her. “And, if I remember, you were in LA for three weeks?”

Harry pouts, but doesn’t argue any further. “You can still come, you know.”

“If it weren’t my dearest mother’s birthday, I would,” Harry says.

“Would be easier if my cousin wasn’t getting married in the middle of nowhere, London,” Liam adds. Harry nods in agreement.

“It’ll go by fast,” Harry says, still watching Liam. “Right?”

Liam leans down, kissing Harry’s lips briefly, before continuing to fold the shirt in her hands, “Yes.”

-

The wedding is beautiful, and Liam finds herself enjoying it, for the most part. There’s still that prominent ache in her chest, but that comes with the territory of being away from Harry.

She texted a picture of her dress, Ruth doing her hair that morning before they’d left. Liam’s mother had cried at the ceremony, because she always cries at wedding, using up all the entire stash of tissues Liam kept in her purse for that very reason.

They hadn’t stayed too late at the reception, until a little after eleven. Jet lagged and tired, Liam wasn’t complaining when she’d piled into the car with her family. 

By the time they get back to their hotel, Liam’s about ready to collapse on her bed. She sits on the edge of it, taking out her phone. Niall and Louis texted, something about being bored in their hotel room. Liam responds, telling them not to burn the entire building down, and checks to see one from Harry.

Instead of typing out a response, she calls her instead. It rings a few times before Harry answers, “Li?”

“It’s me,” Liam says, leaning back against her pillows. “Is it possible to be this tired?”

“I feel like I’ve been hungover since I got off the plane,” Harry whines from the other line. 

Liam smiles, running a hand through her hair. “How’s your mom’s?”

There’s a pause, the sound of a door closing, “It’s good. The party’s tomorrow, so that’ll be fine. Gemma’s got it all planned out.”

“She does know how to throw a good party,” Liam says.

“You looked nice, by the way,” Harry says. “Got your picture, earlier.”

She sounds out of breath, Liam notices. “Glad you liked it. Took ages for Ruth to do my hair.”

Harry laughs quietly, “Sounds fun.”

Liam pauses, waiting again before she says anything. “Are you — alright?”

“Yeah, m’fine. Why?”

“You sound, I don’t know,” Liam pauses. “Oh my God. _Harry_.”

“What,” Harry asks flatly.

“Are you getting yourself off?” 

There’s absolutely no shame in Harry’s voice when she responds, “Yes. Just got started when you called, actually.”

“I can call you back, oh, fuck, why didn’t you tell me —” Liam starts, embarrassed.

Harry makes a sound of complaint. “You don’t have to go,” she says.

“What are we going to discuss, then. The weather?”

“Could do. But I’d rather not,” Harry says simply. “If you’re really uncomfortable with it, I can hang up.”

“No, no,” Liam rushes to say. “I just — don’t know what to say. That’s all.”

“You could tell me what you’d do to me, if I was there,” Harry encourages gently. 

Liam swallows, getting under her blankets. The rest of her family are in their rooms, and her door’s locked, so it’s not like she can use that as an excuse not too. Only excuse she really has is her inexperience, and Harry’s vocalized that that’s nothing to be ashamed of.

“Probably have my fingers in you,” Liam starts, feeling her face flush. Embarrassed in the company of only herself.

“Like the sounds of that,” Harry says, voice rough.

“Yeah?” Liam asks. Harry makes a sound of approval. “Get three fingers in, see how you like it.”

“God,” Harry chokes out.

“Might put my mouth on you, next.”

“Might?” Harry asks.

“Or could do that thing, we tried the other weekend.”

“Gonna have to be more specific, love,” Harry tells her gently.

“You know, when we both fingered each other at the same time,” Liam explains.

“Shit, yeah, scissoring, okay,” Harry says.

“But I wouldn’t mind putting my mouth on you, right now,” Liam says.

“Not complaining at all,” Harry says.

Getting one of her hands under the sheets, Liam slides it under her pajama bottoms. Rubs it over herself slowly, getting started, just how Harry always does — if she were here. 

“Li? Still with me?” Harry asks after a few moments.

“Yeah, sorry,” Liam says. “Got distracted.”

“Distracted with… a hand down your pants?” Harry asks knowingly. Arsehole.

“Maybe,” Liam says, but knows her own breathless tone matches Harry’s, giving her away completely. She’s already wet, and all that’s really happened was hearing Harry’s breathless little moans on the other line. Liam’s so gone for her.

It doesn’t take much for either of them to get off, both coming with muted sounds over the phone. 

“So. How do you feel about phone sex?” Harry asks knowingly. 

Liam snorts into her pillow, “You’re the worst.”

“That’s not a review,” Harry points out.

“It was good. I liked it.”

“Good.” Harry repeats.

“Really good. Life changing. We should do it again, I think,” Liam says.

“I second that. The doing it again thing,” Harry agree’s. 

They fall asleep on the phone with one another, Harry’s even breathing on the other line helping Liam drift off without another thought.

\- 

Their first night back, Harry crawls into bed with Liam. It’s somewhere past two in the morning but neither of them can sleep, too fucking jet lagged to bring themselves to do anything else except lie in bed.

“Feels good, being back,” Harry says, face pressed against the side of Liam’s neck while she talks.

Liam hums, running her fingers along Harry’s back gently, “Don’t mind it.”

Harry laughs, and Liam can hear the cars on the street below, through her open hotel window. “Think we’ll be doing this, till we’re old and grey?”

At their show tonight, Louis had nearly tripped and fallen off stage laughing too hard at something Niall had done. And Liam can still recall now, watching them, that it’s as if they were hand picked to do this — can’t imagine her life without them in it, now. Mostly because it brought Liam the one person she knows she couldn’t live without.

“I reckon so. If not, Niall will be doing it for us,” Liam says.

Harry snorts, rolling her eyes. She doesn’t argue, just slings a lazy arm across Liam’s hip in response. They’re warm, still full of adrenaline from their show, with no signs of coming down anytime soon. 

Liam can very vividly remember the moment she knew she was in love with Harry; it wasn’t in slow motion, nothing dramatic about it, really. Harry was laughing in the tour bus late one night, Louis smearing some sort of icing along her face. One of the snapbacks she’d stolen from Niall askew on her head, tattoo’s showing on her skin and one of her arms linked with Liam’s.

It was as if everything made sense, in that moment. All of it fell into place so easily, and Liam’s never looked back since.

She leans forward, pressing a kiss to Harry’s curls. They smell like her shampoo, fruity and a mix of something else that’s so distinctly Harry Liam would know it anywhere. 

Liam wonders if she has to say it, or if Harry maybe already knows. 

“Sing me a song, Li,” Harry asks gently, wrapping a hand around Liam’s hip; like an anchor.

And Liam does. Some song her and Louis have been working on for the past couple of weeks, her voice hushed where her lips are still pressed against Harry’s hair and tracing a constant message along Harry’s arm,

_I love you_.

-

“Can you believe our own Liam Payne has taken a picture of the crowd every night this tour?” Louis asks. The crowd, in response, screams loudly.

“Our very own Payno, a photographer,” Niall chimes in.

Liam rolls her eyes, keeping her phone firmly in her hands. “Can you two come in closer, please. You’re ruining my shot.”

Louis huffs, but does as he’s asked. Niall follows, and Liam steadies her camera as best she can, with the thousands of voices screaming around her.

A text pops up on her screen, mid shot. Liam does her best to ignore it, but when she sees Harry’s name she pauses, confused. Harry was just excusing herself to the washroom five seconds ago —

Doing her very best to keep her reaction to a minimum, Liam just about drops her phone onto the stage to shatter into a large number of pieces. 

_How do you like the view? ;)_ Harry texted, along with a rather revealing picture of her along with it.

God. Liam’s going to kill her.

**Author's Note:**

> on [tumblaaaaaaaaaaaah](http://loueh.tumblr.com/). drop in and say hello!


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